Untitled
by tookland
Summary: Merry tries to catch a frog. Pippin is mischievous.


Summer was just around the corner in the Shire that day. The tadpoles in the pond not one hundred feet from the Brandywine river had long since hatched, so, naturally, twelve-year-old Meriadoc was on his way to that pond, hoping that he would be able to catch a frog as a possible source of entertainment. He inhaled deeply through his nose and smiled at the smell of lush grass and bright flowers. The bees were back, had been back for a while, actually. To many, the buzzing of a bee was just an irritating din, but Merry happened to find it quite comforting.

He started down the hill leading to the pond, already feeling the beads of sweat on his neck from the hot, bright sun and his long curls. His mother pestered him about trimming them all the time. She said he looked, "Far too shaggy for one not yet in his tweens." Merry liked his hair that way. He liked the way it ruffled and danced across his cheek whenever a soft breeze was present. Little cousin Pip liked Merry's hair, too. At four years old and still a thumbsucker, he viewed Merry's curls as something to occupy his other hand with, despite the fact that he had a plentiful amount of hair himself.

Pippin had followed him from the second he'd walked out the door. Pip was supposed to be napping, but following and pestering his older cousin seemed a much more appealing endeavor. It wasn't that hard to sneak out. Just a small peek into his mum's bedroom to make sure she was still occupied with her sewing, and he was off, careening down the hall and out the door. Considering the fact that Merry was unaware of being followed, he kept a slow, calm pace, which enabled Pippin to quietly toddle and stumble through the grass behind him.

Merry approached the pond slowly and silently. He'd done this sort of thing hundreds of times, and didn't want to scare any possibly present amphibians away. All the walking had done quite a job to Pip's legs, so he decided to let Merry have just a bit of time alone (just a bit, mind you) and slumped down under a large oak tree to rest his muscles. Merry knelt on the ground and peered into the water, checking for bubbles, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. Nothing. He pulled back a few reeds and stared harder. Still nothing. He huffed, moved back a bit and picked a piece of grass, placing it in his mouth and chewing in frustration. _How frightfully boring._

Now well rested and filled with mischief, Pippin perked up and started his crawl down the hill. He thought it the best mode of transportation when sneaking up on someone. He was perfect at avoiding twigs and branches that could possibly snap and make Merry aware of someone behind him, it was keeping himself from giggling that was the real test.

Unfortunately, the world works in unfair and ironic ways. When Pippin was a few measly feet from Merry, that's when a bright, green frog swam to the surface. Merry's eyes lit up, and he moved like a cat after its prey, his hand was directly over the frog, and he was about to lower it when…BOOM! Pippin tackled him from behind, causing Merry to lurch forward suddenly. Merry flapped his arms wildly in an attempt to regain his balance, but Pippin was too persistent, and he toppled headfirst into the water, while Pippin simply slid from his back and landed with a soft _thunk_ on the lush grass.

Merry emerged from the water, spluttering and wiping the pond scum from his eyes. "Errrgh, Pippin!!! Look what you did! I was about to catch a frog! Ohh, and this is one of my best vests! Mum's gonna kill me."

Pippin's eyes fell to his feet, which he began shuffling nervously. "Didn't mean it, Merry. 'm sorry. I didn't know you were so close!" He grabbed Merry's shirtsleeve and began squeezing water out of it.

Merry could never stay mad at Pippin. Just one look at those bright green eyes and huge curls made him smile. Merry sighed, climbed the rest of the way out of the pond and began squeezing out his pant legs. "I thought you were supposed to be in bed." He said, eyeing Pippin.

Pippin shrugged and grinned, scratching behind one of his ears, "I wanted to follow."

Merry chuckled, "Well alright, little one. I'm sure your mum won't mind." He sat down and began chewing on another piece of grass. Pippin sat, too, and gazed out at the water.

"Merry?

"Yes, Pip?"

"…Sorry you're all wet."

Merry sighed and ruffled Pippin's curls. "It's okay. I don't mind so much."

Then, out of absolutely nowhere, a frog landed in front of Pippin's feet. He jumped three miles back in shock before standing up and grabbing Merry's head, twisting it in the frog's direction and squealing, "Merry, Merry, Merry, Merry, Merry, Merry, Merry! A FROG! A FROG! A FROG! Catch it, catch itttttt!"

"If you don't be quiet you'll scare it, Pippin!"

Pippin slapped both hands over his mouth, eyes wide.

Merry was too quick for Pippin's eyes to follow. In a matter of milliseconds he had the struggling frog inside his fist, its head poking out. Pippin gasped in sheer excitement.

Merry outstretched his arm so that it was within Pippin's reach. "Go on, Pip. You can touch him."

Pippin took a step back. He was apprehensive. He'd only seen frogs, never touched one.

"It's okay, little cousin. I promise it won't bite."

Pippin slowly uncurled a finger and reached out to stroke the frog's head. He shrieked with surprise and delight at the feeling of it under his finger. "It's so slimy, Merry!"

"He is, isn't he?"

"Yeah."

Pippin stroked the frog just a few more times. "Merry, you should put him back. I'll bet he misses his mum and dad."

"That's a good idea, eh?" Merry knelt down and gently placed the frog in the water, giving it a small wave as it swam off.

Merry and Pippin spent the rest of the afternoon out by the pond. Wrestling, tickling, and laughing together. When the sun began to set, Pippin's eyes began to droop. He snuggled closer to Merry, threading his fingers through Merry's curls. Merry's hair was dry then, but it wouldn't have mattered to Pippin if it weren't.


End file.
